


Look Up

by Sourcherrymagiks



Series: Your Ex Lover is Dead [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Felching, Idiots in Love, M/M, Monster sex, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut, Snowballing, Tail Sex, They really are in love, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, its actually quite fluffy, lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22621528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourcherrymagiks/pseuds/Sourcherrymagiks
Summary: He kisses me hard (to shut me up I suppose) breathing wildly into my mouth. The taste of us between our mouths is fucked. Any mild embarrassment I felt earlier is wiped out in the fucking hot hotness of how it’s making me feel now.More monster sex. A lot more.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Your Ex Lover is Dead [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593220
Comments: 22
Kudos: 176





	Look Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aralias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aralias/gifts).



> Thank you to everyone who encouraged this nonsense. But particularly to Aralias without whom this whole saga would not exist and my monster sex scenes would be horribly tame.
> 
> [Look Up - Stars](https://open.spotify.com/track/3H8BaByFB3TLm8scmpi3pC?si=U3BoaqIGQ7ejTx1etGzM8Q)

**Simon**

I’m pottering about in the kitchen when Baz arrives home. I try not to look too excited but I knock a glass over and then bang my head trying to pick it up. I doubt it comes off as cool and collected.

“Hello my love, are you quite done with your quest to destroy the kitchen or shall I take a turn around the lounge while you finish?”

I growl at him.

“Eloquent as ever, Possibelf would be proud.”

Before he can exceed his twat level for the day I drag him into me by his belt and snog his annoying mouth. I know he’s just waiting to get the next jab in ( he’s nervous about something) so I pull back and fasten my mouth on his neck. That gets him. It takes about three seconds for him to melt into me. 

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes Snow?”

“I missed you.”

His face does this thing where he’s having a battle between saying something vile or telling me he loves me. Normally he comes to a compromise.

“I’m not surprised, you are lovestruck and soft.”

There we go. 

I muss his hair up and lean further into him then say “Want to talk about it?” 

He raises an eyebrow at me. I roll my eyes at him and shrug. 

“We have to go back soon. I packed up some of my things today and it hit me. I want to. I want to be with you but it’s....” he sighs.

I hold him closer. It is a fucking lot. I haven’t even begun to explain the _everything_ that he’s going to be walking into. I hoped against hope that Malcom or Daphne might have kept him filled in but the bloody British reserve seems to have stopped them discussing anything difficult. They must have out and out lied to him about some of it. I _will_ stop avoiding the explanations soon. Any minute. 

He coughs and then coughs again. Oh. There’s something more. 

“Snow?”

“Yes love?”

He’s holding a printout to me. I take it and skim read.

“Is this? For us? Are we?”

“Crowley Snow, I’ve clearly been fucking your mouth too hard recently. Yes. You and me. If you want to? One last holiday from the real world thing before we have to be grown ups again?”

“Are you shitting me? Of course I want to go. Can’t think of anything better than a mini break with you. Although is a holiday from a holiday a bit much?”

“Probably but you are a ‘bit much’ so it evens out.”

I kiss him again to shut him up.

**Baz**

Trying to get my idiot fiancé into a car with a proportion of some of the things he might need for two days is a truly traumatic experience. I assume that the staff he beautifully pretends not to have will pack for our return to England. If not we are, quite frankly, fucked. 

I lean on the drivers side of the black XC90 (Good choice on Simon’s part, safe and stylish) and try to remain composed as I explain to him for the hundredth time;

“Simon the dogs aren’t coming. I have made arrangements and they will forgive you eventually.”

Simon makes the kind of face at me that should annoy me beyond reason but bafflingly makes me want to kiss him. 

“Get in the fucking car, please, darling before I throw myself in the Seine.”

“I’m driving.” He retorts with his jaw clenched ready to fight me for this. Pointlessly. It’s his bloody car, of course he’s driving. Brat.

“If it means we can leave, knock yourself out.”

I throw him the keys and climb up into the passenger seat. Nostalgia bursts through me, nostalgia that is tinged with sadness and fear and love and just feelings. I taught Simon to drive. I sat by his side for miles. He’s so different now. Then he was a cluttered mess now he’s solid. Still beautiful though. Still made of sunlight. Still so fuckable. 

We don’t have far to go but I enjoy the drive. Watching Simon’s thighs flex as he changes gear. The way he reaches over to stroke my knee whenever he doesn’t need his hand. The way he rolls his sleeve up to give me a dangerous eyeful of his forearms.

I intend to spend the whole time imagining every sordid thing I’m planning to do to him this weekend. As if he can read my mind he licks his lip in a very lascivious manner. I should leave him be but instead I twist one of his curls around my finger then give it a tiny tug. 

“I dislike you least of everyone I know.”

He puts a hand over his heart and mock faints

“You just keep flooring me with all these tender feelings.” 

We both laugh a little. Because it’s hard to _do_ feelings in the daylight. It’s hard to get used to just telling him what I’m thinking (I’m always thinking the same thing) it’s hard to believe he means it when he says it, when I hear it. But we keep stupidly blundering forward. Clumsily trying to find the right words, any words, and that’s not nothing. 

The cottage is in the middle of nowhere. I have plans and schemes that are not entirely neighbor friendly. Dark rituals and the like. He parks up and I have to grudgingly admit that he’s turned into a pretty good driver (it’s painful to entertain the idea, but he might be better than me). I get out in time to open his door for him, which is a pointlessly chivalrous gesture, except it earns me one of his goofiest smiles. This is all a bit new and awkward so every minor movement feels important.

Once we get through the door I don’t even have time to look around before he’s on me. 

“Snow, I like this shirt so show some restraint.”

I don’t know why I’m bothering. He destroys my clothes with disturbing regularity (I like it far more than I should). This shirt is beautiful though, tiny blue flowers on a field of pale sage. It might be nice for it to last the day. 

He wrestles me down onto the sofa and mumbles into my neck “Whatever you say darling.”

I brace for the attack but he just grins at me, then smooths his hands down the front of my shirt, lightly tugging at the buttons on the way until he reaches my belt. He gives that a gentle tug too. 

“I suppose we’ve got all weekend.”

I tense as he slips a finger between the buttons and strokes my stomach. 

He’s hardly touched me but I’m already pathetically riled up. Also overdressed. Which is my own fault. Idiot. 

He pulls my shirt out of my jeans and slips it up to reveal an insignificant amount of skin. I arch up into his fingers because I’m pathetic and he’s amazing and it’s been over 12 hours since I last had him.

“This bit here is nice, do you think it would be ok for me to kiss it?” His fingers are all over it already.

I bite back the savage response that’s in the tip of my tongue and give him the second most savage response “You don’t need permission you utter brat.”

“Yeah but today I want it.”

He’s inches away from the skin in question, his hot breath ghosting up under my shirt.

“Yes, if you must.” I try to sound disinterested but I suspect I sound desperate. 

I definitely sound desperate when his mouth makes contact. Desperate and whiny and needy. 

He licks a little bit, then plants a negligible kiss, then licks again. 

“Can I kiss a bit more?”

“Please do.”

He hitches my shirt up in another ridiculously small increment and slides one button open. 

I’m not ready for the assault of kisses and licks, nips and bites, lapping and sucking. It’s so much and it’s all so good. 

“Simon.”

It comes out like a pitiful whimper and I’m not even sorry. 

“Is this bit ok too?” He’s so calm and I’m all wild. 

This cannot continue.

“Alright you nightmare, what’s the game?”

“Just showing a little restraint love.”

“Is there anything you won’t turn into a battle Simon Snow”

“It’s ’Salisbury’ my love and I think you know that there is absolutely no chance that I won’t scrap you every second of every day for the rest of your life. Now can I kiss you here please.” 

He walks his fingers one more button up. 

“You can but don’t fist my shirt in your hand like that darling, it will crease.”

He winks at me and then redoubles his efforts, his mouth is everywhere. Every time I relax into a sensation he changes speed or pressure or just pulls back. 

I am not a teenager. I should not be this turned on by Simon kissing my stomach. 

I don’t really know who I’m trying to convince. Watching Simon make toast turns me on.

“Can I undo another please?”

“You _may._ ”

There are so many buttons left. So many. I am almost certain I am going to come long before he gets to my collar. 

**Simon**

Well he did say to show some restraint. The way he’s writhing and panting under me is not very restrained though. Merlin, he’s gorgeous when he’s like this. Trying to hold it together while he’s sweating and swearing under his breath. 

I pop the next button and bury my face in his cool, smooth skin. I want to bite much, much harder but that’s not the game right now (and I want him in charge of the biting) so instead I lick a wide stripe across the top of his navel, then suck the skin just above, not hard enough to mark. When I move my mouth he tries to push up into me so I pin him by the hip and give him a sharp nip. 

The path of kisses leads me to the trail of hair running down his belly, I tug the hairs between my teeth, swirling my tongue further down, warming him properly now. He groans and shifts under my palm.

“Relax sweetheart, this is supposed to be a holiday. You seem very tense. Perhaps if you let me undo one more button?”

He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like ‘fucking nightmare’ but it’s honestly hard to tell through the panting. 

“Pardon love?”

He hisses through gritted teeth “Yes please.”

I almost laugh. Except I’m getting ridiculously turned on too now. I want to eat him and then I need him to eat me. ‘Cause that’s what we’re doing here , having some serious monster sex before we have to play nicely again right? 

I want him to do all those things he started doing with my wings. I want him to bite me. I want to do bad things with my tail. 

But first I want him reckless. 

I slip another button and then leave it for a minute before attacking the newly available skin. 

"Simon, please."

"Another love?"

"All of them sweetheart or I’m going to have to take care of it myself"

"That might work, slowly though, no ripping."

His hands are shaking so he makes a right pigs ear of getting the first one open. 

I cannot resist "Need a hand there love?"

He actually snarls at me but he lets me bat his hands away to undo the last few buttons. I’m done with fucking about. 

I still can’t take him. Like this. Mine. It twists me up with how much.

Stop thinking.

Not now.

I lick every single bit of his chest instead. I graze his nipples with open mouthed kisses that turn into bites, I kiss his stupid long neck until he’s pulling my hair in his fists. Dragging me into him.

I break away and hoist myself up so I’m astride him. Then slip his shirt off his shoulders and kiss along the exposed collar bone. It’s not nearly enough.

"Still far too many clothes Baz, excessive amounts."

"Do you have a plan?"

I guide his hands to the hem of my Henley, he takes hold and I keep my hands over his, guiding him upwards, until it’s right to the top of my chest. I think he’s going to finish the job but instead he gets halfway up my arms and traps me in it. 

**Baz**

It most certainly is not the optimal position. Obviously trapped Simon is the best kind of Simon but I can’t reach anything. Just holding myself up is making my muscles burn. I’m half mad with wanting him and he looks like he’s completely together. Just relaxing. Fuck that.

"Snow, I’m going to take this delightful opportunity to sketch out a plan for the rest of the day. Then when I’ve finished talking, not a moment before, you are going to get up and take off those jeans. Then my jeans. Without wantonly destroying either. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly my love."

He grinds down into my lap a little with an innocent look on his face. I tighten my grip on his arms. When I graze a thumb over the nearest mole and he flexes his fucking forearms I almost lose the ability to speak. 

"So my gorgeous love, once we get rid of our inconvenient clothes I’m going to take you outside" his eyes go wide, it’s delicious, “To the hot tub where I’m going to need you to unfurl your pretty wings and get that tail out. Then I’m going to fuck you every way I can possibly manage. If you can behave appropriately and try not to be too much of a colossal pain I may" I pause, partly for effect and partly to revel in his showy swallow "use my fangs."

He shamelessly ruts into my lap, moaning my name.

"Is this an acceptable plan my sweet?"

He looks me full in the face and whispers "The tail isn’t just for show darling."

And I’ve lost again. 

It never felt so good.

**Simon**

He jerks me to him and smashes his mouth into mine. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you pulse. Is the kind of kiss that makes you lose control. I do. 

I’m thrusting and grinding so hard into his lap that I’m on the brink. It’s a fucking effort not to come.

“Baz, please, touch me, please.”

He’s a sloppy mess too, he wants it as much as I do. 

“Not the plan, cool down please.”

He stands up, holding me tight around the waist. It does not cool me down. It drives me nuts when he casually slips a vampire move in here and there. 

“Baz.” I whine pathetically.

“Jeans.”

I unwillingly unwrap myself from around him. His belt is stupidly tight and I’m cursing under my breath while I’m trying to work it loose. He chuckling to himself, I can feel the rumble in his belly against the back of my hands. The warmth of it spreads through me. Baz is happy, because of me. Admittedly it’s because he’s driving me wild but you can’t have everything. He tugs my hair and I look up at him. 

“Need a hand Snow?”

That breathy voice, his eyes, his hand in my hair, what he’s intending to do to me. Fuuccckkkk. 

I yank his belt open and tug his jeans down. Merlin, That did not help. His thighs should be against the law. I’m trying to work out how much trouble I’ll cause if I drop to my knees and then decide I don’t care. 

He raises a beautiful snide eyebrow at me and I respond with what I sort of hope might look innocent. He huffs a little laugh at me because he fucking lives for this shit. I run a finger around the top of his pants but don’t move them. I do it again. 

I want a gasp or something from him so I roll the waistband down once and run my finger along the line of skin I’ve exposed. My face is so close to his cock he must be able to feel my breath. He’s still hanging on though, the bastard. 

Right. I will have him gasping for it. I roll the waistband over again freeing the very tip of his cock. I bring my mouth to the skin I’ve exposed, kissing everything, but not pausing where he wants me to. Still quiet but so so tense. I’ll have him this time.

One more roll of the waistband and this time I slip my tongue around the head of his cock.

“Fucking fuck Snow.”

“Yes love?”

His beautiful eyes are closed and he’s holding his breath again. Not for long. I skate my hands over his arse under his pants and slip them further down on his hips. 

“Simon” it’s a sigh and a question. 

**Baz**

This definitely wasn’t the plan I clearly laid out for him but I’m not prepared to argue while he’s got my cock in his mouth and his hands on my arse and everything is so good. 

I grab his curls but there’s no need to pull him closer, he’s already swallowing me deep, so deep. It’s all fire, twisting and writhing through me, pulling tight.

It takes the whole sum of all of the willpower I have ever been in possession of to pull back out of his mouth before I come. He’s not keen but he lets me go with a lewd pop and a roguish grin.

“Please try to stick to the plan.” I gasp at him pathetically.

He gives me one of his showy great shrugs and removes my pants. Or at least gets them to my feet then realises that I’ve still got shoes on. He huffs but takes them off getting far too handsy as he does it. 

How can he make this part sexy? Prat.

“Enough faffing you luscious oaf, get naked.” I don’t think I sound as stern as I want to. He stands up and kisses me hard before stepping back to strip. He’s clumsy and inelegant and hot. So hot. 

His boots are giving him a little bit of trouble and a laugh bubbles up in me unbidden.

“S’rude to laugh at the bloke who just sucked your dick, where’s your manners Pitch?”

“You must be rubbing off on me Snow, can I offer any assistance?”

That grin is back.

“I think I can manage unless you need to suck me off?”

“Oh Love, I have so many plans but you need to be naked and outside so get a move on.”

He finally, finally, finally shuffles out of his jeans and pants. I take his hand and walk onto the deck. 

**Simon**

I love holding his hand. I mean I get that’s not the focus right now, but it’s still cool. His fingers are really long so he can wrap his hand right round mine. You’d think his hands would be all soft and posh but the violin has proper knackered the skin up so it’s all scratchy and rough. Anyway, I like it. All of it.

The tub is huge, built into the edge of the deck and looking out over a wooded area. I do have some questions about practicalities. 

“Love, couple of questions”

“The answer is magic darling. No one can see anything, I’ll enhance the water to make it all a little more comfortable and I’ve got a cleaning spell for after. Anything I’ve missed?”

“No that’s fairly comprehensive.”

He puts down a bag I didn’t see him bring out on the side table. He opens it up and takes out his wand and my pills. 

“I want you to take these, not because I’m scared of you, but because you are. I promise I’m going to make you burst right through them anyway.”

That makes me weak in the knees. Like I wasn’t already all overworked. I need to come soon or I’m going to cause a fucking earthquake. 

Baz casts something on the pool while I swallow my pills. Then he drags me into the water. It’s warm and bubbly and lush and it can all go to hell because I need to have sex right now.

Baz pulls me into his lap and whispers in my ear 

“Wings and tail please love.”

I listen to the pulse in my ears and then there they are, huge and unwieldy and so delicious in the water. The bubbles feel crazy against my scales. Baz sighs at the same time as me and then we giggle because it is hot and ridiculous at the same time. But mostly hot. 

Then my giggles are being kissed away, snogged away, fucking devoured away. I can’t breathe and I don’t care. I want. I want. I want. 

When he presses a finger where I want it most I give a yell of delight. He nips my neck, then kisses while my tail snakes around his thigh. I’m already losing control again. Whining and gasping and grinding into his hand. 

He takes my hints eventually and breaches me with a finger. Only slightly. Not enough. Not nearly enough.

“More, more Baz.”

He doesn’t argue, just plunges further in and then draws it out entirely. I give a silly sounding sob and tighten my tail even more. He stops teasing and fingers me properly, deep and fast. I’m about to beg again when he reads my mind and pushes the second finger in alongside. He’s taking me apart and he’s barely doing anything but the water and the wings and the neck kissing and the open air and the hour of undressing. It’s all setting me alight. 

“I need to now, Baz, I need.”

He can’t be much better off than me because he doesn’t fight me at all, just moves me round so I’m kneeling on the seat, resting my chest on the edge of the pool. He takes my tail in one hand and we both shudder with absolute pleasure. This tail might be pointless and weird ( and why did I even give myself a tail?) but it’s fucking hot. 

“Simon, are you ready love?”

“Yes, fucking yes, yes , yes, please.”

**Baz**

It’s a bloody sight. Simon kneeling in front of me with his exquisite arse in the air and that bewitching tail and those wings. 

I can’t let go of his tail which makes it more awkward than is entirely necessary but I like a challenge. particularly when that challenge is scaly and warm and ripples in my grip. 

I guide my cock until it’s resting against him. It’s almost too much, he’s always too much. I nudge into him and he backs into me at the same time. 

I’m glad I thought to cast a silencing spell because the neighbors aren’t far enough away not to hear the groans and filth and curses that are spilling from both our mouths. It’s even louder than the splashing squelches that should be funny or awkward or ridiculous but instead are twisting my desire into a ball of fire inside me.

I’m not even making an attempt to find a rhythm, I’m just pounding into him and he’s backing up to meet me again and again. 

He’s so good and it’s so good and everything is static and sound. 

I think I'm about to tip over the edge when Simon shifts position slightly and raises his foot to the seat. It gives me infinitesimally more space inside him which I don’t hesitate to fill.

“Fucking hell Simon, that’s, just, fuck.”

He drops a wing so he can look at me over his shoulder and I nearly combust from the heat of it, of him. He doesn’t break his gaze for a moment and that’s enough, I come hard, thrusting through each ripple of pleasure. His face reflects it all back at me, sending shudder after shudder between us. 

He rocks into me, slowly until I’ve got nothing left, until every shiver has stilled then lets me slide out of him. I grumble a bit but instead of heavy afterglow I’m just even more rabid. It’s as if I’m being pulled towards him, absolutely drawn in to his luscious arse. I don't know what I’m thinking but I’ve just got to. 

I lean into him and put my mouth on his beautifully stretched hole, nudging my tongue deep into the warm damp of my own come. It’s so charmingly foul and utterly delectable. I lick and taste until my mouth is full of it. 

I feel like I could explode from the debauched noises that Simon is making. Or possibly the taste of me in him. Or just. Everything.

I cannot make myself stop. He lets out a growl as I suck hard and swallow. 

“Share.”

Fuck me I’m going to die. 

“Baz, share.” he sounds desperate. 

I’m simply not ready though. In a flash of inspiration I slip a finger in alongside my tongue, curling it up to drive him wild. It does. He almost suffocates me as he writhes on my mouth (Crowley, what a way to die). 

Reluctantly I shift my mouth but only so I can take in the stunning sight of Simon’s arse leaking my come as I pound him with my finger. 

My knees are weak. 

“Baz, just, I want to taste you, me, you know, please.”

The ‘please’ does it. 

I still need though. I’m torn between giving him what he wants and taking what I want. I lean in for a final quick taste that turns into another round of frenzied lapping, before I shift his wing out of the way and cup his chin. He’s looking at me with blown pupils and greed in his face. 

Then he kisses me.

Long and hard and deep. He’s licking into my mouth feverishly, trying to taste all of me? Him? Us?

It all blurred now. Everything all tangled up in this kiss. 

Abruptly he breaks off then turns and sits on the side of the tub and then I catch on.

“It’s not like you to consider the clean up love.”

“It’s exactly like you to be running your mouth when there are much better uses for it.”

I snort a bit because he is such a smart arse bastard and because he’s so right. There is a much better use for my mouth. Another better use.

I kneel between his thighs, exactly where he was kneeling not five minutes ago, and lick up his leg where it’s out of the water. It tastes disgusting. Like chemicals and magic residue. It’s also the wrong texture which is confusing and gross (however useful it may be). Simon is tense, clutching his fists, he’s been on the verge, ready to come, for a long time now. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t find that thought disgracefully arousing. 

I lap at his balls a little but really the taste is too vile. I need him on my tongue. I want a mouthful of him to wash this nonsense away. He doesn’t seem to object to the plan.

“Baz-God - Fuck- Baz fuck- Please?”

I try to coax more lewdness and filth from his mouth and more and more pre come from his cock. He fucking delicious in the sunlight, head thrown back, firing curses into the air as he rolls his hips into my mouth. He close now, tension spreading through his muscles. When he comes he calls my name and I don’t ever need to hear another sound.

Before he has to ask I pull him towards me into another kiss. He doesn’t resist, he never does. Standing down is not in his lexicon. Licking his own come from my mouth apparently is though. I might go insane. Every time I think there might be a boundary, one of us smashes straight through it ( poor word choice but, what can you do?). 

He takes it all then gives it all back. I do the same. When he swallows I’m almost disappointed.

“Mmm, tastes different to yours, sweeter maybe?”

“Not surprised with all the pastries you devour you sweet toothed devil.”

I drag him back into the tub, into my lap, tucking his wings out of my way. His skin is slick from the magic. It should be horrid but is making my cock twitch. Again. So soon.

“While I enjoyed the warm up you better have saved some of that superhero energy for the rest of the day.”

“You better have saved some of your vamp strength Pitch, I’m a long way from finished.”

**Simon**

It’s a bit, well, it’s a bit embarrassing innit? Not embarrassing. That’s not quite right. It’s like we just crossed another line. To be honest it’s not really a line I’d ever thought that much about until it happened. Then I really wanted it. But objectively it is sort of gross. I’d let him do it again though. I want to do it to him. 

“Baz?”

“Yes love?”

“That was really fucking hot.”

“Did you? It was?”

“Really hot.”

If I let him second guess too much we’ll be all twisted up in no time. I kiss him again to make sure he gets it. Sometimes my words don’t work as well as my mouth when it comes to stuff like this. 

I should be knackered but I can feel the first prickles of want building low in my gut again. I think I’m trying to make up for every moment I could have been fucking him that I’ve missed. Like all my teenage frustration has been focused on right now. 

“Baz?”

“Snow?”

“Can we try, the thing, you know, with my tail, I’ve been working on something”

He’s in my lap in an instant. I get lost for a while in the smooth arc of his back, the definition in his muscles, his mouth on mine. Then I remember what I’m doing. My tail hasn’t exactly been as much fun as I’d hoped. It’s not the right shape you see. But it is magic so…

I coil it around Baz’s wrist and draw his attention to my new and improved design. 

“Fuck. That is quite the redesign there.” He runs an exploratory finger over the curved end, then licks his thumb and does it again. I take a deep, deep breath and ask “Do you think- could we maybe- shall we try?”

He’s gone all breathy and wriggly too “I think we better had and very soon please” I can feel him getting harder in my lap. He takes the end of my tail (it’s more, you know, dick shaped now. Nothing sexy about internal injuries) and sucks it deep into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks around it.

I could die.

It doesn’t feel like having my cock sucked but it doesn’t feel like normal skin either. It feels like having my tail sucked I guess. I moan loud and long at the weird joy of it. It’s all pretty freaky and improbable and fucking lovely. 

I’m about to up the freak level. I dip my hands to Baz’s waist and pull him closer in so I can slide my right hand down the cleft of his arse. He gasps around my tail as I run a finger around his hole teasing a little bit but mostly just enjoying having him melt into me like this. I smooth over the rim with the very tip of my finger again and again and again. Each stroke draws him a bit closer to me. When he’s so close that I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine, I nudge my finger inside and fucking explode inside at how good he feels around me. 

I want to pound him senseless until he’s a quivering, begging mess of feeling but I figure I’ll start slow. I ease in as far as I can then draw my finger right out. Baz lets out a starved whine around my tail which sets me right off.

I push my finger in again and work the spot that makes him fucking mental. Predictably he goes fucking mental. 

He’s writhing down onto my hand, running his teeth along my tail and grinding into my lap like his life depends on it. It’s a sight. 

I take my finger out again and let him catch his breath. Or at least he could catch his breath if he wasn’t too busy growling at me to put my finger back in. 

“Just do it you nightmare.”

I do. 

I’m done teasing. I want to give him everything I’ve got. 

I work him open and work him up.

He’s a wreck. He can’t even keep his mouth closed enough to hold my tail. 

I snake it away from his mouth and down to his arse. He gives me a tiny nod and I pull my fingers out and grasp my tail. 

“Ready love?” I dunno if I am. It seems like a big deal. I mean. It’s not, well, human. 

“I swear to Merlin himself Snow if you don’t fucking fuck me this fucking instant.”

Seems like a yes.

It feels insane, it feels unholy, it feels so good.

Baz arches his back and twists his hips to pull me further in. His body is so ready, he is so ready. I feel the resistance ease, suddenly and blissfully, then his muscles draw me further in.

“Baz-love-oh-Baz” I’m just wordsing at him now. Incoherent with the millions of things I want to tell him about how this feels and what it means and how much I fucking love him and everything about this.

He kisses me hard (to shut me up I suppose) breathing wildly into my mouth. The taste of us between our mouths is fucked. Any mild embarrassment I felt earlier is wiped out in the fucking hot hotness of how it’s making me feel now. 

He’s rocking into my tail and kissing me and stroking along my wing and I’m going to burst with all of the new sensations. 

Then he reaches down and wraps a hand around my cock and I _am_ going to burst. The water around us starts shimmering.

“Hey, love, focus your magic on fucking me please.” He can hardly get the words out but each one settles me more. Each one brings me back to him and away from the deep swirl of magic inside me. 

As instructed (sometimes I like to do as I’m told. It freaks him out) I bat his hand away from my cock and replace it with mine, taking hold of both of us. It earns me a good snog and some more writhing and a pinch to my wing. Then his hand drifts under my wing to the spot where it joins my skin. For reasons unknown this bit of skin and scale is made of fire, it sings when he touches it. He coaxes all of the noise out of me. Every sound I can make. 

“Fuuuuckk- Simon- love- nnggghh- I- make me come please- I want to come.”

“Yes love, come for me, give it to me.”

I keep moving my hand on our cocks, it’s slippy from the magical water thing Baz did (which is super hot and super practical) and the slide of skin on skin, the hard and soft, the rub of my thumb as it skirts over my slit and then his. I cup his face with my other hand and push my thumb into his mouth. He sucks on it wildly. It’s all just too much. 

He comes with such abandon that it makes me a bit dizzy. He’s a mess in all the best ways. The shudders ripping through him are doing terrible things to my tail. His hot come on my hand and cock feels delicious. The way he’s gripping my wings is something else.

“Fuck, Simon, you, I just, you.”

It sends me over the edge and then I’m pulsing into my hand, grinding each wave out against him, crying his name like I don’t know any other words. 

I bring my hand up between us and even with the water it’s still coated in come. Our tongues meet as we lick at it. 

**Baz**

My fingers are going to prune. I’m starving. I can’t feel my left leg because Simon is slouched across it in such a way. But I simply cannot be arsed to move. 

That was very, very good. I can’t find it in me to be anything but delighted to have been fucked by a magical appendage while the owner of said appendage did unspeakably lovely things to me. 

While he loved me. 

To be honest I’d be fairly delighted if Simon just agreed to sit like this with me forever. He’s half in my lap with his head on my chest and his legs thrown over mine. I’ve got one hand in his curls but occasionally I run it along his wing which earns me a kiss. The sky overhead is starting to dissolve into an entirely different shade of dirty blue taking the temperature down with it. We should grab some food and some towels and some drinks. We should move. 

“Simon”

“Yes love?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Am I hungry?” He shakes his head at me in what might possibly be disbelief “have you met me?”

**Baz**

“The thing is love I still want you to bite me.” he’s slouching at one end of the table wearing nothing but his pants. He moaned about that modest concession to decency, but really, one must have some standards. 

I love this about Simon. The way he just casually tells me what he wants while I’m eating dinner. 

“That can be arranged but can I finish eating first?”

“Spoilsport.”

I raise an eyebrow at him and he giggles at me. 

Tosser. 

Once we’re finished he grabs armfuls of blankets, duvets and pillows to take out of the deck. I follow him out and light the heaters.

“I’m holding you entirely responsible for keeping me warm out here Snow.” I’m only wearing joggers and it’s nippy out here. 

“Aren’t you a competent magician?”

“Rather more than ’competent’ thank you.”

“So....make it warm.” he shrugs at me in an entirely infuriating way. 

I answer back in what I hope is a equally infuriating way “I’m not sure that we need magic for that love.”

“You’re very full of yourself tonight Basilton Pitch.” he pauses and spots my grin “don’t you dare make whatever shit joke you just thought of you demon, you’ll spoil the mood.”

I fake a harrumph then pull him into the nest of bedding. The stars are out now, above us, and this feels like something. 

“Look up.” I whisper into his curls as he twines his fingers into mine and sighs. It’s these moments that undo me. Not the seconds when my world narrows down to sensation and fire, not the big declarations, not even the magic ( make no mistake I love all those things too) but these long moments where we breathe each other in. He melts into my arms and I dissolve in his. This space is where the game stops,where we don’t behave like sworn enemies who became lovers. 

This is where he is mine and I am his. 

“Looks like love.” he mumbles into my chest. 

“Mmm?” I don’t want to push us out of this moment. I don’t want to push him. 

“Looks like the first time, when we shared magic and I.... I tried to get back there with you so many times but now we are there. Looks like love. To me.” he moves even closer in, I tighten my arms around him. 

He still tries to avoid speaking if he can so it always comes as a surprise when the words just tumble out of him like this. It’s not Shakespeare but, Crowley, it’s everything to me. We don’t talk about ‘us’ before. I don’t think I knew it started with the magic sharing for him, or not for sure. I’m not even going to think about the other bit right now. 

“I love you too.” It doesn’t seem enough somehow. I kiss his head. 

**Simon**

We lie together for a bit before he starts the fingertip stuff. I don’t catch on straight away ‘cause it feels cuddly at first. Then it starts feeling a bit more than idle stroking, it feels like he’s looking for something. 

I nuzzle a bit closer in “Can I help you with anything love?” 

He carries on stroking my arm, fingertips, nails, knuckles, palm, back of hand, fingertips. “No thank you sweetheart, just stay as you are.”

I try to relax into it but it’s not a sensation that calms anything down. He’s been working on my palm for a few minutes now, each little movement is insisting on a response. My body gives it to him. 

I know he can feel how hard I am. I’m curved right into him. He’s not reacting though. He’s just moved his attention to my wrist. 

Cool fingers, circles, words, patterns, scratches, brushes. It’s only my wrist but it ripples out like waves of fire. I breathe right into it and feel him smile. 

When he pulls his hand back I feel lost for a moment. Then he starts it up again along my ribs, staying just short of causing a massive tickle induced giggle fit from me. Instead it causes a massive squirming fit with a tiny bit of grinding. The palm he flattens against my chest doesn’t calm me down in the way it should but I absorb the cool touch like I’m thirsting for it. 

True to form he doesn’t let my obnoxiousness divert him from whatever it is he’s plotting. To be fair I don’t try too hard to mess it up. I want to find out how this plays out. I don’t do passive very often but I try my hardest to lie still still as he lets his hands roam all over me.

Hips, thighs, shins, ankles, everywhere my skin creases, everywhere it joins, he’s writing sonnets, tracing out spells, sketching the ways he loves me. 

I close my eyes. Rise up into it.

**Baz**

I didn’t start with a plan but Simon is alternating between jelly quivering and electric tension. I want it all. I want to see how far I can push this, how many ways it can play out. 

I write the story of us, the history of magic, poems full of love into his skin then smooth them clear with palms and knuckles. 

He sighs.

The slight shimmer becomes something tangible around him and I should stop. I know this. If his grip on the pool of magic inside him becomes untethered then no one knows what happens next. 

But I don’t want to stop him. 

“Open up love.” I whisper into him not knowing if he will even hear or know what I mean. 

The current pulses into my hand where it’s resting on him, icy and deep, glacial. I push my magic back to meet it and like last time it twists into strands of scorching, chilly frost fire. 

I keep moving my hands over him, letting the magic seep into me and out of me again. Tracing the same patterns inside him, drawing the shape of my feelings in and out.

" **Simon** " I say it like I’m casting, like his name is a spell.

" **Baz** " He responds with the same fervour, like magic or a wish or a prayer. 

I don’t know if it is the magic or the every other single thing on earth but I need him now.

**Simon**

His fingers aren’t so light or random now. Now he’s certain and determined. I’m not sure if we did actually just cast a spell on each other. It seemed like it but then s’not like we need anything supernatural to rile us up is it? 

There is no pause, no adjustment, he pushes straight in and crooks his finger until I whine. It is amazing and completely uninteresting, I want Baz closer, so much closer. This is just torture.

"Simon, I need you love, are you ready?"

"Please" there is magic dripping from every syllable between us now. I should worry what’s havoc this must be causing but I can’t drag up even half a fuck to give. Not when Baz is bracing himself over me, looking like he does, feeling like this. 

I don’t remember clothes (such as they were) coming off. I don’t remember how we got from there to here so fast. It seemed like it was going to take forever. Maybe it did. Fuck. I’m drunk as shit. 

“Baz, love, I’m pulling back, it’s, I’m.”

He giggles at me and I’m bloody right. We’re both intoxicated by it. I pull back a little, he does too and then it’s calm again. Swirly but not sickening. The fog rolls away and I’m glad. I want to be here for this. Really here.

Baz shakes his beautiful head too and looks at me like I’m brand new. It makes me mushy on the inside. Not so mushy that I forget about wanting sex though. I really want it right now. Just as I’m about to ask Baz pushes in and I’m undone. 

**Baz**

I’m not so giddy on magic that I forget what I’m doing. Or maybe I do. I remember suitably swiftly though. 

It appears that we have to maintain a delicate balance between magical enough to feel everything and so much magic that we become blathering idiots. 

I shake my head clear and guide my cock into him. This moment always feels like coming home. Real home rather than the place you happen to live. Where everything fits. Where you can exhale.

Of course the second after it feels like burning raging fire. I mean to go slow and cherish every second but before I can stop myself I’m rocking into him like my life depends on it and he is clawing at my arse so tightly that I think his might. 

I’m going to bite him. I haven’t decided when or where or how. Just that I need to. 

He pulls his knees up higher and gives me more space, I take it immediately. We both moan nonsense at each other. A whole new language of want and need and more. 

“Do it love, Please?” Those words are crystal clear though. 

He’s holding my face so I have to look him in the eyes. 

So I have to stop the kissing and thrusting and moaning and look at him.

I turn my head and bite into his wrist. 

**Simon**

I know I have to ask for what I want. He won’t take what’s not freely given. He never has. It’s why it’s taken us so long to get here. If he had just snogged me up against a wall in fifth year it all would have been sorted a lot faster. 

I’m done with uncertainty though. 

I bring my hands up to hold his face, make sure he understands that I truly mean it. His fangs are already down. He already looks like something legendary. I don’t just want him to bite me as some sex thing (although it is fucking sexy) but because I’m his. He needs to know the difference.

“Do it love, Please?”

I’m expecting him to go for my neck. I like a good neck bite anyway but instead he turns and takes my wrist in his fangs. 

It feels like fireworks under my skin. Like light and sparks.

It feels like I belong.

**Baz**

He tastes like sunshine and metal and sugar. He relaxes into me like he can finally rest. 

**Simon**

I let myself go into the tide of magic and blood. Fading out of everything that isn’t fangs and skin.

**Baz**

I stop before I take enough blood to harm him but he’s still limp and boneless. There’s only one remedy for that. I hoist his leg up onto my shoulder and start to thrust again.

**Simon**

I don’t stay floaty for long, not while he’s doing that. Not while everything in me is screaming for him to do it harder, fill me up, push me over whichever edge is next. 

I grab at his waist smearing him with blood. It’s hot as fucking anything. 

He raises an eyebrow at me like that particular filthy thought didn’t escape him. Then he takes hold of my cock and I’m so ready, the tension starts skittering through my muscles, I’m rocking into him trying to get everything I can, desperate, scrabbling, wanting. 

“Baz please, please, please.”

And then it rips through me like a living thing. I’m a growling sputtering mess, coming hard in Baz’s hand with his name on my lips and his cock still inside me. 

Shudder after shiver after shudder. 

He watches me through it all, still stroking me until I’ve nothing left. I’m not surprised when he licks his hand clean. I’m am fucking turned on though. Still. Always.

**Baz**

It’s a production as usual. There is nothing delicate or subtle about the man I love. He explodes like a wild beast as he comes and then just keeps going. Even when he’s totally rinsed out all I have to do is lick my come splattered hand and he looks ravenous again. 

I’m still ravenous. I lose any remaining shard of control and pound him into the floor, relentlessly driving into him until the tension floods into me and mounts beyond breaking point. Then I’m coming like an equally wild animal, roaring and biting and pulsing into him. 

**Simon**

I hold him so close I can feel each tingle of his orgasm as it slowly ebbs away. He takes my wrist again and licks at the blood that’s still smeared on it. It makes my arse twitch which makes his cock twitch which makes us both laugh a little. 

We slip apart and then come back together in a sticky mess, as close as we can get. Curled up together under the stars. 

I stroke his hair back of his face and he leans into my hand. 

“I love you, you know that right?” I say without meaning to.

“I think so, I think I know. I believe it most of the time now. Do you know I love you?”

“I think I believe it most of the time too and that’s probably enough to see us through right?”

Then he kisses me and I do believe it. 

  
  



End file.
